When I was 12, I went through a dragon phase. Dragons were so cool – they were huge, and they could fly and breathe fire and I wanted to be a dragon. So, I did the next best thing: I read everything I could find, and designed my own dragon society.
A primary part of their culture, mostly because I never branched out to developing anything else, was the Coming of Age ceremonies. Young dragons found out their powers in these ceremonies. They could be diviners (auditory or visual), they could glow, they could breathe fire, but whatever their power was, they had to go through a trial in an arena.
I ended my dragon phase with about fifteen drawings of various ceremonies, all lovingly framed by taping them to cereal box cardboard.
This, I believe, was the first one. He’s a healer. I guess I thought healing spit was cool when I was twelve.
I know, I know, it’s not fair to do a redraw challenge for something I drew fifteen years ago. It’s no surprise that I’ve improved on every possible axis. But when I was looking through my stash of old pictures, choosing what to redraw, and I saw this…
I really, really cared about these dragons. I was incredibly proud of myself for coming up with something so ~different~ and ~cool~. I’m still fond of them.
And it’s not a surprise, really, but damn, it’s nice to see how much of a difference fifteen years’ practice makes.